by Ju Ephraime
“Whatever you say, sir. When do I get to meet her? I tried to make it back in time for dinner, but I was distracted.”
“You don’t say. I know how easily you can become distracted. Who was it this time, a new one?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“Sort of? It either is or isn’t, Thorpe. It can’t be both.”
“Well, it depends on how you look at it. I met this girl a couple weeks ago while I was having dinner. We’ve been seeing each other off and on. We never took it to the next level until now.”
“You are a horny toad, Thorpe. Can you not just have a female as a friend without muddying the waters?”
“Uh, no.”
“It’s your funeral. Where are the crutches?”
“They are in your office, sir. I assumed you’d want to do the honors of presenting them to Franchesca yourself.”
“Yes, you are right in that assumption. I want you nowhere near Franchesca. I’m going to get some work done now.”
“You’re going to work now? I’d have thought you’d be entertaining your visitor.”
“Well, you thought wrong. She’s asleep. The pain medication knocked her out. She didn’t even have any dinner. But what do you care? I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”
“Avoir une bonne nuit. Have a great night.”
Damon walked into his office, and, as was usually the case, his desk was covered with things that needed his attention. He sat down and pretty soon he was engrossed in the business of checking stocks and moving them around.
He spent a good three hours without a break and only stopped when his eyes happened to land on the pair of crutches for Franchesca. Then his concentration was gone. He kept seeing her lying in the bed in total abandonment, and he was immediately erect, the blood having left his brain and pooled in his nether regions. He knew there would be no more work for him this night, so, gritting his teeth, he left his office and went into the gym and put himself through a grueling five-mile run on his indoor track. When he was done with that, he took a swim in the pool. If he still wasn’t able to fall asleep from all this exertion, then he was in big trouble.
He finally went to bed at 3:00 in the morning, and still it took him a couple of hours before his body calmed down enough for him to fall asleep. Even so, he was up at 6:00, his usual time. His body was programmed to get up at that time every morning and go for his run before the sun was up.
Although he had put his body through the grueling workout only a few hours before, he still went through with his normal routine. Now that the time had come to approach Franchesca, he was, all of a sudden, experiencing cold feet. He figured going for a run would put off the inevitable and buy him some time to rein in his out-of-control hormones.
*****
Franchesca opened her eyes and was a bit disoriented in the strange room. It took her a moment to recall where she was, but just as she was getting out of bed, the cast on her foot reminded her soon enough. She lay there admiring the beautiful and soothing colors of the room when a knock sounded on her door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Ange, miss. Can I come in?”
“Yes, Ange.”
“Bonjour, mademoiselle, comment allez-vous aujourd'hui?”
“Je suis mieux aujourd'hui, Ange”
“I am here to help you with your bath if you need me, but first, I brought you un petit-déjeuner.”
“Thanks, Ange. I am hungry. I had no dinner last night and slept through until fifteen minutes ago.”
“You were tired, miss, and all the drugs in your system would surely knock you out.”
“I agree, Ange.”
“I’ll have my small breakfast, and then I’ll think about the bath. It looks like another beautiful day outside. I’ll let you take me outside so I can enjoy the day.”
“Monsieur Dumont said to make yourself at home, so that won’t be a problem.”
“Why, I’ve not seen Damon since yesterday. I thought he had gone back to Paris.”
“No, miss, he’s still here. Let me help you to the chair, and then I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast.”
She hopped on her uninjured foot, and they were able to make it to the chair without any mishap.
“There you go, miss, I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Thanks, Ange.”
Franchesca couldn’t decide how she felt knowing Damon was there at Tranquility. She thought he had gone and left her in his home in the care of his employees. Now that she knew that was not the case, her body temperature was going haywire, hot one minute and cold the next. She enjoyed the coffee, poached egg, toast, and a glass of OJ. It was wonderful.
CHAPTER SIX
Damon had just returned from his run. Walking into his bathroom, he began stripping before he’d even turned the water on. He was impatient to see his guest. No sooner had he allowed himself to think about Franchesca than his body responded. He was standing in his room with a full-blown erection, and that was the beginning of his torture.
He stepped into the shower, leaving it as cold as he could stand in a futile effort to try to shock his body into behaving. He shampooed his hair and soaped and rinsed himself down, and still he was as hard as ever. Not wanting to further aggravate the situation, he avoided touching himself even through the towel, and as a result, he was still mostly wet when he stepped into a clean jockstrap and shorts; nothing else would hide his condition, and he had no intention of going around looking like a horny teenager. He then pulled a T-shirt over his head, he walked out of his room and went in search of some coffee.
Grabbing the coffee from the stand in the hallway outside of the kitchen, he took the stairs two at a time to Franchesca’s suite. He was about to knock when he heard Ange’s voice from behind the door. From the conversation and the way they were carrying on, something funny was going on. Not wanting to walk in on them, he took a U-turn and made his way back downstairs.
He restlessly paced the hall like a wild animal. When his housekeeper, on her way to the breakfast room, gave him a strange look, he realized what he was doing. So, he left the hall, and he went to his office. But, he was too keyed up to concentrate on work, so he turned on his computer and began surfing the Internet, looking for nothing in particular. He hoped Ange would be done with whatever she was doing for Franchesca because he intended to visit her this morning.
He didn’t know what he was going to say to her, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. All he knew was that he wanted her, no, needed her. A shiver of longing chased down his spine, and he felt his chest rising and falling in a labored rhythm. So obsessed was he by his need to have her that he was beginning to believe he’d suddenly lost his mind. The fact that he was not totally free to indulge in a relationship with Franchesca only gave him a brief pause. What he’d do if she turned him down was not a thought he cared to entertain.
He was just about to make his way back up to Franchesca’s room when the house phone rang. Picking up the phone, he was not surprised to hear Mrs. Flavene on the other end, telling him she was about to serve breakfast and asking if Franchesca would be joining him.
“Yes, Mrs. Flavene, I believe so. Set a plate for her.”
As he hung up with her, his eyes fell on the crutches that were lying in the same spot where Thorpe had placed them. God, in all his lascivious thoughts regarding Franchesca and his randy behavior, he’d forgotten the crutches. He picked them up. Striding down the hallway, he felt very purposeful. Now he had a real reason to visit her, not that he needed a reason, but he was aware he was acting the fool. Approaching her room, he was pleased to find the door was ajar, so he only had to knock briefly and walk in.
*****
Being without the use of one foot was so limiting. Franchesca was just beginning to realize all the things she wouldn’t be able to do, like trying to find a comfortable spot to rest her foot. She was just about to engage in a pity party when there was a knock at the door, and Damon walked in, carrying the crutches. She
’d forgotten how tall and commanding he was. He filled the bedroom with his presence, causing her to become all flustered as she tried to pretend having a man in her room while she was still wearing her night gown was an everyday occurrence.
Franchesca’s body got heated as she was subjected to a close perusal by those brilliant steel gray eyes. Her breath jammed in her throat as she stared at Damon. Every girly part of her was pulsing. What was it about this man that threw her so off balance, making her want to do foolish things that she would normally never even contemplate, let alone actually do?
Being near him felt like being near an active volcano. She couldn’t tell if the heat was coming from him or from her being near him. All she knew, she was on fire.
She started taking deep breaths as she tried desperately to regain control of her senses. She allowed her gaze to travel from his handsome face to the top half of his perfect body. She refused to look beyond the waistband of his shorts. She didn’t want him to catch her examining his package.
Those shorts left very little to the imagination, and she was not prepared to go there without putting up a fight with herself. Ogling his sculptured body through the T-shirt was temptation enough. She found herself counting the outline of the muscles that were clearly defined through the thin cotton of the T-shirt.
As she brought her gaze back to meet his, she saw him shake his head, as if he was having an argument with himself. He took two strides, and then he was in her personal space. So close she could smell the cologne he was wearing mingled with earthy undertones of wild woodland. That’s how the man made her feel, wild.
The impact of his eyes this close was not something she could handle, so she lowered her gaze but continued to observe him through her lashes. He was truly a handsome man. God, what she wouldn’t give to feel those lips on hers. She had to do or say something to break this charged atmosphere between them.
“Hey, Damon, I thought you had abandoned me,” she blurted out, trying to bring her voice, which had gone strangely hoarse, under control.
“Hey, yourself. Why would you think that?”
“I’d not seen you since yesterday.”
“I came in to check up on you, but you were out cold. How are you feeling today?”
“Better. I’ll soon be up and out of your hair.”
“Who said I wanted you out of my hair, Franchesca?”
“I’m just guessing. I’ve been nothing but trouble since you met me yesterday. I’ve monopolized your staff, created more work for them, and now you are stuck here with me.”
“I’m not stuck here with you, Franchesca. I’m here because this is where I want to be. This is where I’d rather be.”
“Oh,” was all she had the time to say before his mouth was on hers.
Franchesca could have pretended to be shocked and insulted, but that would have been a big lie, considering she’d just been longing to feel his lips against hers. His initial touch was light, as if he was testing her, giving her an opportunity to retreat. Hell, retreat my big toe.
She moved into the kiss, and then the tone of the kiss changed. It was no longer tentatively searching. It became demanding and hungry. She sighed softly into his mouth with a strong feeling of satisfaction. She heard him groaned deep in his throat, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue engaging hers in a mating dance that was both familiar and yet not.
Thrills of delight skittered beneath her skin as she opened to him. She was not aware of standing, but when he moved from her mouth to her neck, she was finally able to think coherently. That was when she became aware she was standing within the circle of his arms and the hard object that was poking her in the belly was Damon’s body part. It felt kind of strange to her, not like a penis should, but she did not have much experience in that area.
She wanted his mouth back on hers. She loved the taste of him. She gave him a soft bite on the neck, and this elicited a growl from him as he returned to her mouth and proceeded to devour it. He tasted like minty chocolate and delicious male. She swept her tongue against his teeth and returned to his tongue, tangling with him until she heard him groan again. His taste was addictive. That and the slippery texture of his tongue doing those wicked things with hers made Franchesca voracious. She wanted him to take her there and then. She was weak with need. Running her fingers through his slightly damp hair, she tried to convey to him, without words, what she needed.
*****
Damon had known it would be this fabulous to kiss her. He was trampling all over his own code of ethics by doing this. On some level, he actually knew that. But this was a craving that he’d been grappling with almost nonstop since she had first fallen into his path on the tracks. Now that he finally had her alone, he had no shield of honor left to ward off his desire. She appeared to be willing and agreeable if her reaction was any indication… Her enthusiasm was contagious.
Franchesca’s lips were so sweet and succulent, and the way she took his tongue and sucked on it, as if she was enjoying her favorite lollipop, made him quake in his shoes. She was pressing into him, causing his groin to ache. His body was on fire with the fantasies her mouth was conjuring in him.
Damon wanted her mouth on every part of his body, especially the part that seemed ready to explode. Yes, he thought with a groan as Franchesca made eager, appreciative sounds that vibrated into his mouth, encouraging him to delve deeper. He was so turned on, with desire coursing through his body like electrical waves, spinning his wits, making his body respond with an arousal that was painful in its intensity. His entire body was humming with need.
His hand was on her breast, and Damon knew if he did not put some distance between them he would have her naked in that bed. He wanted to take things slowly, but Franchesca was a very passionate woman, and she clung to him, responding with fire. Heat leapt between them, threatening to melt and fuse them together permanently. He welcomed the direction in which they were going. After all, the whole point in bringing her to Tranquility was to get to know her in every sense of the word.
*****
They were so busy going at it they had completely forgotten about the open door. Franchesca had difficulty recognizing the desperate woman who seemed bent on divesting Damon of what little clothes he was wearing. She had her hands at the waist of his shorts when there was a knock on the door.
They both sprang apart at the same time, but he didn’t release her and a good thing too. She would have landed on her ass. Not knowing how much Ange had seen, she was ashamed to look her in the face, but Ange acted like nothing untoward had happened and proceeded to do what she’d come in to do.
“Are you up to going down to breakfast, miss? I’m here to take you.”
“Don’t trouble yourself about Franchesca, Ange. I will take her down.”
She’d been so busy behaving like a bitch in heat, she’d completely forgotten about Ange. What a mess.
“I can go along with Ange, Damon. I’m sure you have other things to do besides wheeling me or carrying me around. I’m sure I can deal with the crutches.”
“Nonsense. Go along, Ange.”
“Yes, Monsieur Dumont.”
Ange was gone as quickly and as quietly as she’d appeared. She practically ran from the room.
*****
“Do you need anything in here?” he asked Franchesca as he stood there watching her look everywhere but at him. “If you’re expecting me to apologize, you’ll have to wait a long time. I wanted to do this from the moment you opened your eyes after your fall yesterday. So, there’s no way in hell I’m apologizing.”
Damon felt like a rat, despite his brief outburst to Franchesca. He really couldn’t explain the effect she had on him. She was standing there, her lips swollen from the job he’d done on them, trying to devour her.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” she told him as she smoothed her hair away from her face. Even now he still wanted her with a hunger that was riding him hard.
“Come,” he said. Reach
ing down, he lifted her and brought her into his body.
She pressed her face against the solid wall of his chest and didn’t lift her head again until he walked into the breakfast room.
Damon was pleased to see Cook had outdone herself today. The spread she’d laid out made him proud.
He sat her down into a chair just as Thorpe walked into the room, and then he had to get back into character. Get back to pretending that his need for Franchesca was not greater than anything he’d ever felt before. Even his feelings for Izzabella paled in comparison.
After sitting her in the chair, he had to turn away from her in an effort to regain control of his wayward body. The jockstrap was biting into him, but he was glad that he had it on; it was the only thing helping to keep his desires a secret. As he turned to walk back to the table, he heard Thorpe greeting Ms. Flavene. For once, he wished Thorpe elsewhere, but he quickly told himself this was childish.
Thorpe had been his friend since their teenage years in school. So he turned to greet him as he wondered why he had not heard from him again. He was usually a very vocal man. The sight that greeted him had him seeing red. He had to close his eyes and count to ten. The urge to grab Thorpe bodily and slam him against the wall was so strong he was shaking from it. He had no pockets in those shorts to hide his hands in, so he had to be satisfied with running his hands through his hair until he was pulling at it.
Thorpe was kissing Franchesca’s hand while he stared into her eyes. After the session they had been through in her room, her color was still high, giving her a beautiful peachy glow, with her full luscious lips drawing attention like a beacon. He was just in time to hear her reply in response to Thorpe’s question. “Franchesca LaCasse.”
“Franchesca, enchanté, mademoiselle,” he was saying as he looked up into her eyes.
This was a direct come-on by any Frenchman, and Thorpe knew it, he knew, and he was pretty certain Franchesca knew it too. What the hell was the man thinking? Even if he had not made his feelings about Franchesca known to anyone—after all, he was still grappling with them—Thorpe should not hit on his guest. That is what he told himself anyway as he reached for, and removed, Franchesca’s hand from Thorpe’s, which he was still holding on to.